The AntiGod
by CrazyBeaver
Summary: What if there was more to the story Benji had told Ethan in M:I3? Benji is sent on a separate mission, leaving the team to wonder. Meanwhile, Brandt has some issues to deal with... Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So I decided: what if a creepy story Benji had told Ethan in the third movie was real? Slight spoilers for Mission: Impossible III… I guess…_

_Disclaimer: don't own them :(_

**Chapter 1**

"I don't like this place," Benji whispered under his breath, making his way down the corridor to the control room. The walls looked like they were metallic, and it made every breath echo loudly around the place. "Looks too much like a cartoon bad guy's HQ".

"Aww, you wanted something nice and cozy?" Brandt mocked from where he stood by the entrance, keeping an eye on the guards who were supposed to be there. But they weren't.

"Guess for the next time we should book something of the 'slightly less creepy' category," the Brit retorted, keeping up with the tone.

"Cut it," Ethan interrupted impatiently. "Brandt, how are you doing there? Everything alright?"

"Yeah…" the former analyst sounded surprised about that fact himself.

The mission was coming to its end. All they needed to do was retrieve some data from the computer whose owner, a crazy lunatic who had wanted to set up explosions in several biggest cities in the world, was now dead. The main worry was his minions, about whom the IMF had surprisingly little information.

"Jane?" Ethan asked. He and Carter were both outside, watching around for anyone to approach. "Is it clear?"

"No," Jane breathed. She wasn't sure they saw her but she knew soon she would be uncovered as several men were nearing her.

"How many?" Ethan tensed at his place.

"Lots," Jane sounded increasingly agitated.

"Got it," the leader responded as he jumped up and rushed to her aid.

Brandt froze, thinking whether he should help Jane and Ethan or stay with Benji. The noise he heard from the control room made him end up with his hesitations, and he ran down that very corridor, making loud sounds with every step he took.

Stepping inside the room he saw Benji fighting one of the guards. The guy was huge and looked more like a heavyweight boxing champion. Despite the Brit did his best at dodging hits, the outcome of such fight was fairly predictable. Not wanting to wait for it to happen, the former analyst drew his gun. Aiming at such a giant was quite easy. William was so focused on his task that he missed an important detail out of his peripheral view…

"Look out!" the English-accented voice echoed from the walls for a while after a pair of strong hands wrapped around its owner's throat. Brandt barely had the time to turn his head to see a fist flying in its direction. Catching a punch to the jaw, he squeezed the trigger, as he still had his finger on it. The sound of the gunshot (which is quite a loud sound already, to be honest) was just deafening in the room. For a few seconds everyone stopped, stunned. The first one to get over it was the former technician, using the confusion to his advantage and freeing himself from his attacker's grasp. He quickly picked up his own gun from the floor and hoped to take the sound of another gunshot less painfully, given that he was now expecting it. However, it only increased the ringing in his ears. Having dealt with his attacker, he turned to Brandt, only to see that his friend was dealing with the situation, throwing a final blow at his opponent's skull and sending him falling to the floor. On his way down the guard hit the control panel, sending a few electric sparkles from it before the lights in the room went off.

There were a few seconds during which both agents stood there in the dark, listening to every possible movement. Benji was breathing heavily after being nearly strangled. As the adrenaline was washing away, however, he began to feel something else. Something wasn't right… He stumbled backwards until his back was leaning against a wall. Still trying to catch his breath and feeling an increasing pain, the former technician slid down the wall's smooth surface until he was sitting on the floor.

"Are you alright?" Brandt's voice was somewhere close. "Benji?"

"I-I don't know," the shaky response wasn't something William wanted to hear. As his eyes were now somewhat adjusted to the darkness, he made out his friend's shape by the wall and rushed to it. He laid his hand on Benji's shoulder and winced, feeling it was going wet. With his other hand he finally fished a lighter from his pocket. His heart dropped at what he saw. The former technician's shoulder was a bloody mess. Clearly a gunshot wound. A trace of blood was on the wall, marking the way Benji had slid down it. It didn't take the ex-analyst long to figure out how it had happened, and his own blood ran cold in his veins.

"Oh my God…" he forced after a struggle for his own voice. "Benji, I am so…"

He was cut off by the noise of approaching footsteps somewhere behind him. He turned swiftly, his gun ready for another attack. He was relieved to see Ethan and Jane speeding up towards them. He put his gun in its place, wishing to never even look at it after what it had caused.

"What happened?" Jane asked, staring at both of them as soon as the light from her own lighter caught the Brit's wound.

Brandt's mouth went dry. He swallowed, trying to force himself to speak but the ex-technician was faster.

"My gun f-fell down when I was fighting this guy," he nodded in the huge guy's direction. "And then the other one came and picked it up…" Jane and Ethan nodded in understanding while the tech drew a few long breaths, wincing in pain. "Good thing Brandt showed up in time to take them out".

Brandt wanted to yell at Benji. He felt almost angry at him at this point. And, in spite of this, part of him was grateful to him for not telling the truth to the others. Brandt felt ashamed of that part.

Ethan came up to the computers and wasted no time before taking the hard discs from them. The techs will have fun decoding this, he thought, involuntary catching a flashback to the times when Benji Dunn had been one of those techs.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Brandt sighed, as he was sitting on a couch at his current apartment, staring blankly at the TV screen without acknowledging anything on it. It had been almost two months since the incident, and he never got to talk to his friend about it. While Benji had still been at surgery, he had gotten an urgent call from the headquarters. What was supposed to be answering a few questions turned out to be quite a long journey. When he had come back (just a couple of days before now), the former technician was gone.

Jane and Ethan didn't like the fact that their friend didn't have the time to properly heal before being sent on another mission but they couldn't argue the people at the HQ. And judging from the Brit's worried behavior when they had last seen him, it did seem like something important.

The former analyst hated to feel guilty. And now this burden was squeezing him, almost pressing him to the ground, and he couldn't even talk about it to anyone. All he could do now was wait for his friend to come back. And hope that he would come back.

His grim thoughts were interrupted by a phone call. A bit startled, he looked at the screen to see a familiar name on it…


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: This chapter is short but I hope you enjoy it!_

_Disclaimer: do not own._

**Chapter 2**

Benji was out of hospital after three weeks of staying there. He really felt the need to talk to Brandt. Or more like he knew Brandt had the need to talk to him. He was waiting for the former analyst to come back from wherever he was when one day he got called to the headquarters.

"Good morning, agent Dunn," he was greeted by a guy whose name he knew was agent Topp. "How's the shoulder?"

"Still a bit…" Benji trailed off, firstly because he knew nobody cared about the answer, and secondly, because he saw a familiar face on the screen of the computer they came up to.

"I think you know who it is," Topp assumed. Benji nodded. The man looked older and somewhat thinner than he remembered him but was still recognizable.

"Doctor Phillip Wickham," he said quietly, almost muttering under his breath but still loud enough for the other man to hear him. "Professor at Oxford University. Area of interest - biomolecular kinetics and cellular dynamics. That is, he was a professor when I knew him…"

Topp nodded.

"He retired last year," he added. The former technician looked at him with anticipation. There was no way he was summoned here for a chat about his university professors.

"And more to the point," Topp continued, "he mysteriously disappeared a week ago".

Benji raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Why is it our concern?" he asked. "I mean, surely the local police should deal with it".

"That's not it yet," the other agent went on. "Along with him, some of his best students disappeared," more faces appeared on the screen. Benji winced slightly when he recognized about three of them as his old friends. Some of the others were just familiar. However, all of them looked like they had graduated quite a while ago. "The police have no clue about what it all can be about".

"You mean, they are completely clueless," Benji whispered in irritation. He still didn't know why the IMF was supposed to care. Or even more, help the British police do their job. However, he had a suspicion. Another memory which might be a lead to something.

"Do you know what it can be about?" Topp finally asked a direct question.

"Not really," Benji sighed. "He used to tell his students some scary stories but…"

"The Anti-God?" the other man suggested.

"Yeah," the ex-technician nodded. "But those were just stories to scare the underclassmen". He suppressed a smile, remembering being so impressed by them that it took him quite a while of reasoning to come to the conclusion that it was just fiction.

"Well, apparently not," Topp quipped. "These words were one of the very few clues the police have got. What do you know about it?"

"Not much," Benji swallowed. Could this all be true? "Some mystery tech. Potentially dangerous to all life on the planet. So he told us".

Agent Topp nodded.

"Agent Dunn," he began solemnly, and Benji felt sick already. "We are sorry to disturb you so shortly after your injury… but you are the only one who can help us with this mess. You will need to go there. You will be met by our agents in the UK".

The former technician's head was spinning.

"So you suggest I go back to my university where there still are people who might recognize me? How's that supposed to work?"

"Go back to your apartment. You'll get your fake ID and further instructions," Topp's tome wasn't as soft as before.

As he was on his way out, he nearly bumped into Luther.

"Hey Benj," the older man smiled. "How are you doing?"

The Brit only shook his head.

"Don't tell me you've got a new mission," Luther's eyes widened slightly.

"Yeah," Benji breathed before looking aside to see Topp still standing there and adding "reminds me of the Rabbit's Foot".

This mention confused the older agent even more. However, that could mean anything. The Rabbit's Foot mission was the one that had given Benji Dunn quite a big push with his career. This one might have similar results. Probably. He watched the Brit leave in a hurry, muttering something under his breath nervously. He shrugged and proceeded with his own business. He didn't know that a month later he would have to recite the entire scene to a quite worried Ethan Hunt…


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews! So here's another chapter! I was a bit sleepy when I wrote it but I hope it will make sense!_

_Disclaimer: nope, still don't own them._

**Chapter 3**

Benji was trying to adjust to his new role. It was so weird to be back in England in business. As it turned out, he was sent to the town Dr. Wickham had been living after retirement. The former technician allowed himself a relieved sigh as the chances of being recognized here were close to zero.

He was posing as a police officer. Police detective, to be precise. He was kind of glad he didn't need to wear the uniform albeit he had a childish interest in whether it would suit him. One of his teammates was with him as another police officer while the other two were hanging around the university. Arranging such cover wasn't easy as it required a lot of paperwork faking and pulling a lot of strings in different departments. The former technician was only thankful that the IMF took care of all that. And he really felt out of place here, as what he was doing was quite unlike anything he had ever done as an agent.

Benji had talked to the neighbors and had visited the professor's house several times. No evidence of struggle, no leads. He wasn't much of a detective but the lack of materials could be a clue by itself. He remembered Dr. Wickham to be obsessed with his subject. It would have been weird if he had just abandoned everything.

However, this was bringing him nowhere. Until one day he was passing the professor's house to see a young girl standing in front of it.

"Can I help you?" he asked, not sure how to start the conversation. She shook her head.

"Is this the house of Dr. Phillip Wickham?" she questioned, and Benji nodded, trying his best to hide his agitation. He didn't tend to be good at it but now it was way too important.

"Did you know him?" he tried to keep his tone neutral.

"He was my professor at Oxford," she nodded. "Then he started acting weird and suddenly retired. They say his health condition became worse. But I don't believe it".

"What do you mean, acting weird?" Benji was trying to stay calm but really couldn't. For the first time he might actually be on to something.

"Who are you?" the girl suddenly asked, her tone suspicious.

"Detective Sergeant Evans," he managed an apologetic smile, showing her his badge. "I am investigating this case. And you?..."

"Doyle," was the answer. "Janine Doyle".

"So what was so strange about Dr. Wickham's behaviour?" Benji proceeded. "He had always tended to be a bit… odd. That is, from what I've already heard of him,' he rushed to add seeing another suspicious look from the girl.

"I don't think he was odd," she answered. "He loved his subject but nothing weird about that".

Benji raised an eyebrow.

"And what about some stories to scare the younger students?" he chose his words carefully.

"What stories?" Janine looked utterly confused. "He didn't talk to us apart from his lectures. He never got away from the topic. And then he became really nervous. Like almost paranoid. Looked out of windows, as if expecting an attack…" she smiled guiltily. "But maybe I've read too many detective stories".

"Maybe," Benji smiled in response absentmindedly. "But who knows…"

That day he arrived at his apartment in deep thought. So if the younger students knew nothing about the Anti-God, it explained why they weren't among the disappeared. So apparently it _was_ about the Anti-God. Benji searched his memory for what the professor had told him years ago. _An unstoppable force… end of the world…_ It was just too abstract to even be taken seriously. He remembered some of the vanished people. He read all the possible data on them. They were some of the best. He sighed and looked around him. There was no way he could get to anything here. Deep down in his mind he had known from the very beginning that he had to leave his cover behind. That the main reason he was sent here was his past involvement. On the bright side, it meant he could finally be himself as much as it was possible. On the other hand, it was highly possible that he was now a target to whomever was behind it all…

"Are you nuts?" agent Morgan sure had a good inside voice even though his tone suggested he was quietly yelling now. The police station was seemingly empty but they wouldn't take the risk to be heard.

"There's no other way," Benji retorted. "I'll go meet some of my old professors. Let's see what happens".

"But…" the other man was trying to find another argument but failed.

"There is this girl… Janine Doyle," the former technician tried to apply authority to his voice. Being a team leader was really exciting and cool but he wasn't used to it, either. "Keep an eye on her".

He watched Morgan write down the name.

He was on his way to Oxford when he got a phone call informing him that a young girl with documents on the name "Janine Doyle" had been found dead in her hotel room. Having arrived there and met two of his local fellow agents, he found out that agent Morgan was shot while on a case of an armed robbery. All three of them knew it was far from the robbery case…

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Agents Ethan Hunt and Jane Carter were sitting at a bar. They were expecting agent William Brandt to arrive soon. Their memories traveled to a weird moment when the nearly bumped into Benji near the IMF headquarters. He had been mumbling something and probably hadn't even noticed them. All they knew was that he was sent on a mission, which was weird as he clearly hadn't quite healed.

Brandt stepped inside and headed straight to his friends as soon as he had spotted them. It was kind of their meeting place. Even they hadn't contacted each other ever since the former analyst's departure they knew where to find each other.

William couldn't help noticing that Benji wasn't with Jane and Ethan. He had been at surgery last time Brandt had seen him. His blood ran cold. _No… it couldn't be that bad… Oh God…_

His fellow agents greeted him with somewhat absent smiles when he finally reached them.

"How was your trip?" Jane asked politely. The ex-analyst just shrugged.

"And where is Benji?" he tried to sound as calm and cheerful as possible but the shaking of his voice was an outright betrayal.

"That is a good question," Ethan sighed. "We don't know".


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N Okay guys, sorry this one is so short! I just decided I needed to cut it here for now. The next chapter is supposed to be longer!_

_Don't own._

**Chapter 4**

Benji was having a final conversation with his team (what was left of it, that is) before going to meet his professors. Either he would find a clue, a trace, a lead to the people behind the abductions… or they would find him eventually. He only hoped to be ready.

"Are you sure about it?" one of his teammates, Paul, asked for like a hundredth time. "Blowing your own cover like this…"

"Nobody here knows who I actually am anyway," Benji retorted. Being a secret agent meant his entire life was a secret one. Even his close family (who he hadn't seen for quite a while now) thought he was an IT specialist somewhere in America. His father never understood why his son had left the country. And a year before now he had gotten a message from his mother informing him that Dad had died. He couldn't even come to the funeral because of an absolutely crazy mission in Pakistan. Brandt had even joked about Benji "finally" being able to keep quiet for a while back then. Benji had just smiled absently in response. He had worked out a good fake smile. It helped a lot. He never told his friends about what had happened. First there was the mission and then… why bother them anyway?

"Agent Dunn?" Paul's voice brought him back to reality.

"Sorry, I was miles away," he smiled a bit guiltily, and the other two agents just nodded.

"So we meet up like we've agreed," he concluded after a short pause. "Take care".

_Okay, Benji, who are you trying to fool here?_ He thought to himself as he left the hotel room. _You can look confident but you are really scared, and you know it. Much like in the Kremlin. Only then Ethan had been there to put you back on your place. And now you are alone._ He took a deep breath. _Pull yourself together, Benji. No fear, no retreat._

Arranging meetings with his old professors was easy. And he finally got to use his laptop. Although he used it not for some complex hacking or anything but just for looking up the list of professors and sending some e-mails. Bloody shameful. Hopefully, this would at least lead him somewhere.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

About three hours later Benjamin Dunn was walking down a quiet street. He would be remembering his student years if he wasn't so focused on totally different things. Aside from some sentimental flashbacks, all he could get was that Dr. Wickham had indeed become weird as for himself shortly before his retirement. He had been acting slightly paranoid in the last months, so nobody had been surprised when he had left. But nothing he hadn't known already. _Damn it_, he mentally sighed, _I am an agent, not a police officer_. This kind of work annoyed him to no end.

He saw two people approaching him out of his peripheral view and tensed at once. He was relieved to see they were actually his teammates when they got closer.

"Anything new?" Paul asked as Gary, the other agent, was looking around them, trying to see whether they were watched. There were too many possibilities for that there. Benji seemed to acknowledge that, as he just shrugged and led the pair further down the street to find a place they where they could talk.

They walked for another minute, and the street was almost entirely empty at this point, when suddenly Paul stopped abruptly. Benji turned his head fast enough to see the man fall to the ground, blood pouring from his chest. _Sniper_. He was about to motion to Gary to move away and do so himself but the next thing that happened was Gary falling, a stream of blood running from his temple. Not knowing where to run, Benji just waited for the third shot. And he didn't have to wait long...


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: So here's one more chapter! Hope you enjoy!_

_Do. Not. Own._

**Chapter 5**

Ethan Hunt was having beers with Luther. He decided he could use some distraction. Although it didn't last long.

"What's the deal with Benji?" Luther asked curiously.

"What about Benji?" Ethan raised his eyebrow questioningly. "I heard he's on a mission".

"Yeah," the other man nodded. "Isn't it too soon? He's not fit for work".

"Maybe it's something easy?" Ethan suggested. He knew it was a silly suggestion. Nothing the IMF had ever done was easy. There was a reason they were called "Impossible Mission Force". Stickell's glare seemed to be supporting that thought.

"Man, how do you still remember the word 'easy'?" he asked grimly. Hunt smiled humorlessly.

"When did you last see him?" he asked after a pause.

"The day he got the mission," was the answer. Ethan nodded in a 'same here' gesture. "He was strange. Was remembering the Rabbit's Foot".

Ethan's eyes shot upwards.

"The Rabbit's Foot?" he asked. Why would Benji have mentioned that?... He was about to ask something but his phone vibrated.

Half an hour later he, Jane and William were all standing at the headquarters as ordered. Agent Topp eyed the trio carefully before beginning.

"This," he clicked a button and a picture of a fairly obese old man appeared on a screen in front of them, "is Dr. Phillip Wickham. Professor at Oxford University".

Ethan's eyes widened slightly but he didn't say anything, happy that only his teammates seemed to have noticed that.

"He disappeared roughly nine weeks ago," Topp went on. "Along with some of his best former students. Some of them had vanished even before the professor did".

He sighed before continuing.

"A week later the incident we sent agent Dunn to… investigate… under the cover of a police officer".

Under different circumstances Brandt would have certainly snickered at the image of Benji in a police uniform. However, now this couldn't and didn't happen.

"Yesterday we got the information that our team working in the UK had been killed," three sets of eyes were now drilling him with unbearable intensity. "Agent Morgan was shot still as a police officer during an armed robbery. The remaining men were shot by a sniper in Oxford".

The team froze, none of them being able to breathe.

"Their names were Paul Edwards and Gary Cartwright," Topp proceeded with a sigh. Jane frowned, confused.

"And what about Benji?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Agent Dunn wasn't found," even though the answer wasn't that reassuring, it did get a small relieved sigh out of the three agents. "Although some of the blood found at the place of Edwards and Cartwright's assassination belonged to him".

There was another silent moment. Topp took a swallow.

"Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find Dr. Wickham and find out what is going on there".

This was the last drop. Brandt couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, enough of this bullshit. You are hiding too much. Why the _hell_ did you send _Benji_ on this mission? Because he's English? And since when do we investigate kidnappings?"

Ethan held out his hand to calm down his teammate. However, when the former analyst had stopped, Hunt continued his rant.

"You _are_ hiding too much from us," his voice was low but everyone who knew Ethan could say he was really pissed off. "At least one thing I know for sure. Benji _was_ Wickham's student. And he is from the same generation as the disappeared people," he waited for his friends to get over the shock of the news. "What else do we need to know?" there were certain steely notes applied to his voice. Topp swallowed hard.

"Well," he began sheepishly, "it has something to do with what Wickham might have known… and what he might have told his students…"

Suddenly the mention of the Rabbit's Foot started making sense to Ethan. "The Anti-God…" he muttered barely audibly. Topp raised an eyebrow.

"What do you know about it?" he asked quizzically. The team leader just shrugged.

"Nothing. Just heard those words".

He exchanged nods with his team before concluding: "We accept the mission," not letting Topp say another word. He barked "Send us the further instructions" before storming out of the room, followed closely by his teammates.

"How did you know Benji was Wickham's student? And about this Anti-God thing?" Brandt asked, keeping up with the leader as they walked.

"Benji told me about this when I was on the Rabbit's Foot mission".

"He never told us about it…" Brandt went on. "Even though he's talking all the time".

"Believe me, he used to be worse," the leader assured.

"Wait," Jane spoke up. "The Rabbit's Foot? I've heard that title. What _was_ it, anyway?"

"Well, Benji thought the Rabbit's Foot was the Anti-God," Ethan replied nonchalantly. "Satisfied with the answer?"

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Benji opened his eyes and closed them at once. He couldn't understand where he was. And what was with the pain he was feeling. He tried to recall his last memories.

_He was standing there, his two dead teammates lying at his feet. He was expecting to join them soon. However, he suddenly felt agonizing pain tearing though his left shoulder (the one Brandt had shot him in just two months before). The pain was blinding, and he could tell the damage was worse this time. He sat down on the pavement. One question, though, was buzzing in his head: why was he still alive? It couldn't be a mistake, snipers don't make such mistakes. Something was out._

_An ambulance arrived soon, and the paramedics began their job. One of them decided to talk to him._

"_Are you in pain?" he asked._

"_Are you retarded?" Benji barked. And he got his team killed… Great, Benji, just a brilliant job you did there. The paramedics said something about giving him some painkillers, and everything became black._

He opened his eyes again. Wherever he was, it was definitely not a hospital.

"Hey," a soft voice sounded, barely louder than whisper, shaky and somehow… familiar. Benji turned his head towards the sound.

"Mike?" he whispered. He hadn't even acknowledged how weak he was until he tried to speak. The guy sitting by his side definitely was Mike, his old college friend. The pair had been inseparable before each of them had gotten his own life. And now both of them had come to this.

"I bandaged your shoulder," Mike added. "Can you move your arm?"

Benji tried and failed. His only hope was that at least he still could feel it at all. A bit.

"Where are we?" he asked, trying to take his mind away from the pain that was growing every second.

"I've been asking myself the same question for the past weeks," Mike smiled bitterly. "I was just walking down the street one night, then something hit me in the head and I woke up here," he paused, as even this sentence seemed too tiring to him. "I was hoping we'd meet someday, but not like this…"

Benji looked closer at the other man. He was like a shadow of himself. The former, life-loving and optimistic Mike had completely vanished. This Mike looked every kind of broken, both physically and mentally.

"What on earth happened to you, Mike?" the former technician could feel a lump in his throat grow, threatening to choke him at some point.

Mike laughed unhappily before going into a coughing fit.

"I'm afraid you'll find that out soon, Benji," was the answer. Without even looking at the man the agent could tell he was crying.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I had an odd mood when I was writing this… Hope you enjoy!_

_I don't own the movies or the characters (except the OC's, of course)._

**Chapter 6**

Brandt was standing in a dimly lit room, listening to every movement around him. He was surrounded, occasionally gunfire erupted here and there but there was no way he would give up. He was fighting back, trusting his instincts, hoping that the enemies would end before the bullets in his gun. He had one more bullet, and everything was quiet. He almost relaxed when suddenly he heard footsteps from the doorframe. Turning swiftly, he fired his gun into the shadowy corridor, praying that he had hit his target, because otherwise he was dead. The man had a gun, which he dropped, to Brandt's relief. He stumbled forward, stepping out from the shadows, revealing blonde hair and a pair of very confused blue eyes.

The former analyst could swear his heart stopped beating when he realized he was looking at Benji. The former technician's eyes never left his, confusion in them growing into pain and betrayal, as the blood from the gunshot wound in his forehead was flowing down freely into them. He didn't stop looking at Brandt though, and the "Why?" that was never spoken was way too obvious in his gaze. The Brit made another shaky step forward before falling down to the cold floor.

Snapping out of his stupor, Brandt dropped his gun and ran to his friend, painfully falling to his knees by his side. He cradled the tech in his arms, turning him to face up and trying to get Benji to look at him. But there was nothing he could do. The Brit's gaze was now aimed at some point of the ceiling, the blue eyes which used to be so childishly cheerful and full of energy now frozen with the same painful expression, unseeing and glassy. Lifeless. _Dead_.

"I'm so sorry…" Brandt's hand was trembling madly when he outstretched it to close his friend's eyes, trying not to get more blood into them. He didn't know why it was so important. He just didn't want to see Benji's eyes with that red in them. He looked down again. Now Benji looked almost like he was sleeping. If not for the blood now covering half of his face. And the lack of breathing. How was this possible? Benji was too alive to die. It couldn't be happening. It simply contradicted the laws of nature. Shaking with uncontrollable sobs, first weak and soft and then violent and suffocating, Will pressed his face against Benji's collarbone, mumbling "I'm so sorry" until those words stopped making any sense. His shaking was reinforced by someone else's efforts. Someone was holding him by the shoulders firmly. He didn't care. He wouldn't care if someone had come there and killed him. Or had blown up the building. Or even the entire planet. He just wanted it all to stop.

Just as he thought so, everything around him, including his friend's lifeless body, was going transparent before disappearing completely.

Startled, the former analyst looked around him in total bewilderment. Jane was holding his shoulders tightly, looking at him with worry. They were still on their plane to the UK.

"Bad dream?" the female agent asked. William nodded with a shrug. He hadn't had a proper sleep in a long while. His mind knew he was overreacting, and that Benji probably wasn't mad at him for that accident. _Probably_. That was exactly the kind of words his subconscious liked to pick on, quite possibly getting sadistic glee from its owner's suffering. The vision of his friend's dead eyes had been haunting him for weeks. And now that Benji was in trouble… What if they wouldn't find him?... Brandt's heart was racing, and he shut his eyes, breathing deep in order to calm down. When he opened them again he saw Jane still looking at him.

"I'm okay," he forced, knowing he couldn't fool her.

"No, you're not," she answered softly, remembering their similar conversation in Mumbai and allowing herself a small smile at the role reversal. She was about to ask if he wanted to talk about what was bothering him but decided it was a stupid question.

"We're gonna find Benji," she said, trying to sound confident. "Everything will be alright".

Brandt nodded, despite thoughts like "what if we don't" and "what if we are too late" being screamed in his head. Maybe he should tell his teammates the truth? Maybe, if he talked to them, at least this burden of guilt would be gone? Or would they be angry for keeping up with the lie for so long? It was Benji's fault. All his damn fault. Having finally made his decision, William opened his mouth but that very moment Ethan came up, telling them they'd be landing soon. The moment was missed.

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Benji brought himself into an upright position. He hated just to sit and wait, especially since he knew he needed some medical assistance, and the only thing he had instead was a piece of cloth wrapped around his shoulder by his friend. His attempts at determining their location didn't give him much. They were in a room which looked much like a prison cell from the past. The only source of light was a tiny bulb on the ceiling, which helped to see some shapes but wasn't bright enough to feel comfortable.

"What about the others?" Benji asked after a pause.

"What others?" the genuine confusion of Mike's voice was slightly worrying.

"A lot of people were kidnapped…"

"I haven't seen anyone," Mike sniffed. "Although I thought I heard some voices from time to time… But anyone can hear voices, right?"

Benji felt shivers down his spine.

"Oh, and I saw Dr. Wickham," the agent tensed at those words.

"When? Is he here?" he asked.

"Well, yeah, he's kind of like with them…" Mike began to babble. "He's not really himself, poor guy…" there was another pause, and Mike chuckled softly. "Remember what we used to call him?"

Benji looked at the other man with a mix of pity, confusion and slight annoyance. Benji Dunn getting annoyed by a guy who talks too much. Brandt would have loved the irony. But seriously, the former technician didn't feel like talking about stuff like that now. It wasn't the time to remember their old jokes.

"No, really, do you remember? Because I don't".

The last sentence sounded as if Mike had only realized that just now. He suddenly fell silent, and Benji really wished he had kept talking. The silence was so thick that whenever he closed his eyes he thought that the world around him was gone. The quiet, though, was broken sometime later when footsteps sounded from behind the door.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews! They really keep me going! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)_

_I don't own Mission: Impossible._

**Chapter 7**

Benji got to his feet as fast as he could. That was a very bad decision, as he started to feel nauseous at once, and his arm hanging lifelessly by his side caused shots of agony through his body every time it moved. On the other hand, standing up was the best decision he could have possibly made.

The door burst open, and two men went in. Nothing special, just your ordinary goons with guns. They paid little to no attention to him and walked straight to Mike who looked terrified and completely lost.

"Okay, your time has come now," one of them said quite menacingly, approaching the man. The other goon stood next to Benji with his back turned to the agent. His gun was simply poked under his belt. These idiots had to be the most stupid thugs he had ever dealt with. It didn't take long for Benji to think what to do.

With a single swift movement he grabbed the gun. The goon turned to face him only to catch a well placed and quite hard punch to the jaw with the hand holding the weapon. As the man fell to the floor, Benji aimed the gun at the one next to his friend, frowning in pain from all those moves and fighting the dizziness and dark spots dancing in front of his eyes. The guy could do nothing but raise his hands.

"Mike, take his gun," Benji hissed. The other prisoner just stared at him with his mouth wide open.

"Just do as I say, Mike!" the ex-technician raised his voice.

Just as his friend began to obey and moved his hand towards the weapon, the first guard was standing up. His vision blurry, Benji noticed it only when the man launched himself for an attack, knocking the gun from his hand. However, Benji reacted in a reflex, bending his arm, knocking the man in the face with his elbow and, when even that wasn't enough as the guy still launched forward, throwing him down to the floor, making him do a somersault in the air. Not bad, considering he could only use one arm. Having made sure his opponent was unconscious the agent began to bend down to take the gun but froze midway.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the other guard had his gun pressed against Mike's temple, his free hand holding the poor guy restrained. Now it was Benji's turn to rise his hands (well, one hand actually) up.

"Back away," the agent obeyed, stumbling backwards before hitting the wall lightly. The goon made his way to his partner, still holding Mike in his grip. Having reached his destination, he pushed his hostage forward and wrapped his arm around the other goon, still pointing his gun at the prisoners. He dragged his colleague to the door, locking it securely behind them.

The blood loss and exhaustion had finally caught up on agent Dunn and he sat down on the floor. He remembered it happening before during the last mission. Back then Brandt had been with him. And Jane and Ethan, too. Despite being in pain and feeling bad for his friend who had shot him (Brandt's guilt issues were a thing of legends at IMF), he had felt safe. His friends had had him. They had taken care of him. Now everything was completely different.

"That was amazing!" Mike still sounded scared but his broken mind decided he should free his childish excitement first. Benji literally felt pain every time his friend spoke because he was nothing like the Mike he had known. Whatever they had done to him had destroyed him, his mind, his soul, his personality. Now he seemed to have turned into a 10-year old. Benji hoped it was the worry, and expected the man to get to at least the state he had been in when the agent had woken up. "How did you do that? I mean, when… where did you learn…"

"Self defense classes," Benji breathed without turning his head.

"And he looked like he believed you would shoot him," Mike went on. "You looked pretty convincing. He didn't guess you don't have it in you to kill someone".

Benji shrugged, not answering that statement. He couldn't just say "Actually I have killed a few people, but it was all for the greater good", could he?

His wound was making him worry. He needed to a hospital, as he was beginning to fear he was very likely to get an infection. His arm was a thing of concern, too, as he could barely feel it. At the back of his head there was a thought telling him he might never be able to use it again. That is, if he lived long enough to need it. The way those two guys had left without taking what, or better to say who they had needed, was a relief as it gave some time. However, they were clearly just as surprised that a former nerdy Oxford student had hand-to-hand skills of a… well, of a trained secret agent, as Mike was. No doubt they'd want to know more about it. He let his head rest against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

"So, how have you been doing all these years?" Mike was much calmer now, and Benji felt thankful at least for that.

"I think we should leave it for later," he answered softly as his mind was racing and he was doing his best not to start babbling like he usually did when nervous. One thing was when he was among other agents, but now he couldn't reveal too much. Maybe he should accept the offer and chat about some nonsense instead.

"What if there is no later?" Mike asked with a bitter smile. Benji felt his vision blur. He fell silent, trying to think of a story which would require the least amount of lies, when he heard another set of footsteps getting closer. This time there were definitely more than two people.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: So… thanks for your reviews on all the previous chapters! Hope you like this one!_

_Don't own._

**Chapter 8**

Ethan, Jane and William were walking down a narrow street in Oxford. They had been to the police station, posing as a bunch of FBI agents investigating the disappearance of a US citizen, since they knew Benji stayed in the town as himself. That was actually the last bit of information IMF had gotten from him before he had gone missing. They had seen their friend's possessions taken from his hotel room, even recognized some of them, most notably the laptop. The trio had a small hope there might be some message there but they couldn't even enter the system. If Benji Dunn didn't want anyone to get the info from a computer, nobody would get that information. He knew how to protect it, if there even was anything.

Detective Inspector Evan Thompson was now leading them to the place where two people had been murdered. So far all they knew was that there was a mysterious ambulance which had taken the third man but had never made it to the hospital with him. Another ambulance had arrived later, claiming that they had been called but all they could do was take the deceased away after the police had finished their primary investigation. Interrogations at the hospital were fruitless, apart from the fact that a car was apparently stolen from the emergency aid station.

They approached the place of the shooting and for a second Brandt could swear he could see blood on the sidewalk. But he blinked and it was gone. Obviously, it had been washed away.

After looking around for a while they decided to get back to the station, as Ethan asked to get him the information about all doctors. Brandt and Carter exchanged looks, assuming their leader was desperate but didn't say anything. They were just as desperate as him, and they felt the need to do something.

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A small prison cell was suddenly overcrowded, as six more people burst into it at once. Benji scanned their faces with his gaze. Four guards one of whom was already familiar (Benji felt somewhat satisfied that his partner wasn't there, apparently still a bit ill after the fight), a guy in a smart suit who seemed to be the leader of it all and…

"Dr. Wickham?" Benji's voice was hoarse and weak. He didn't have the chance to say anything else, as two of the guards ran up to him and pulled him up, twisting his arms behind his back. He let out a loud yelp of pain as his shoulder was making more movements than it was supposed to and more blood began to appear through the cloth covering the wound. Another guard grasped Mike.

"Oh, Mr. Dunn," the professor smiled sincerely. "Nice to see you again".

Benji stared at him. What was happening here? Everyone he knew seemed to be going mad.

"What a heartwarming reunion party," the guy in the suit waved his hand impatiently.

"What's going on here?" it was a stupid attempt at getting an answer but the agent felt that he was going crazy himself and he just needed to clear this up just a bit. The Suit Guy, as Benji called him in his mind, eyed him carefully and smiled maliciously.

"Well, I am working here. A man of science. And your professor here is just a helper," Benji frowned, as the word reminded him of better times. Well, relatively better as they had had a global nuclear war to prevent. But at least they had been together… His team, his soon-to-be best friends. Benji suddenly realized he was drifting away and made a forceful effort to come back to his current situation.

"Doctor Wickham and I worked together about twenty years ago. And then we had a little… misunderstanding, after which I had to leave for a while. And our mutual work, which was supposed to be a secret, became not so secret," he shot a glance at the professor who looked down. "Luckily he got back to his senses and came back. However, we can't fully trust him with the question of who else had found out about our project. So, by any chance, can you recall anything he has told you about the Anti-God?"

"I don't think so," Benji tried his best to sound neutral.

"Wrong answer," the suit guy whispered, and the familiar guard threw a mighty punch at the agent's stomach, making him keel over as much as it was possible while being held upright.

"I know he told you about it," the voice went on. "Your friend Mike here has a good memory of people. He helped us a lot with finding those who had heard the stories".

"But I… I…" Mike was mildly panicking. Benji looked up at him. Mood swings, pupil dilation, general condition… clearly they had put him on some drug.

"So I repeat my question, Benjamin. How much do you know about the Anti-God? And have you told anyone about it?"

"I know nothing about it," the most ridiculous thing was that it was almost entirely true. Wickham had never told them any specific information. Another blow to the chest left him breathless.

"Alright," the man gave another impatient wave. "You seem to be more interesting than the others anyway. My people here say you can do a bit more than a supposed simple IT expert. And the fact that you came here now. And the fact that you look suspiciously much like one mysterious Detective Sergeant Evans who has recently disappeared only for you to appear here".

Benji's gaze shot up. _Shit_.

"So my question is…" the Suit Guy got closer to the prisoner, looking him in the eye. "Who _are_ you, Mr. Benjamin Dunn?"

Benji knew it was probably a dumb thing to do but the guy was just too close to him and he couldn't resist the temptation. Focusing his will, he headbutted the man in the face. It wasn't enough to knock him out but apparently did break the man's nose. At the same moment the former technician felt being thrown into the wall, hitting it with the back of his head and falling limply to the floor. His interrogator gave his men a nod, and they proceeded with sending kicks at the blonde who had no strength to move, let along to fight back. A few minutes later the Suit Guy motioned to stop, and they stepped aside, revealing a semi-conscious body on the ground. Benji was trying to catch his breath but felt blood in his throat and rolled to his side to cough it out. However he was then rolled to his back again to face his captor.

"Who are you working for?" he asked. When there was no answer, he stepped on the ex-technician's injured shoulder, causing even more blood to flow from it. There were some sickening cracking noises as the bones that hadn't been broken yet gave in and started moving, causing an even more intensive bleeding. Unable to take it, Benji let out a scream, which stopped because he was choking on his own blood. "Who? MI5, FBI?"

The agent just looked at him without saying a word.

"Well, since you don't want to share your secret," the man said, still standing on the captive's shoulder and taking his gun out, "you might as well take it to your grave".

Benji could hear Mike's terrified "no!" as he closed his eyes exhaustedly. He waited for the bullet to end his pain. Instead he heard Wickham's voice. At first he couldn't make out the words but then he thought he could understand something…

"… such skills…" the professor was saying. "We could put it to better use…"

"You think…?" the captor sounded hesitant. There was another agonizing moment during which the foot was removed from the agent's shoulder, letting him roll to his side again to cough up more blood.

"Well, we have to test it out some day," Wickham reasoned.

"Alright," the Suit Guy answered after a consideration. "Take him to the lab".

The last thing Benji could hear as he was being dragged out was Mike's "I'm so sorry, Benji". Then he finally let his eyes roll backwards and gave in to the darkness.

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The station was quiet as three people were looking through the hospital personnel's files. Jane was becoming impatient, losing the remains of her hope. Suddenly Brandt froze looking at one of the photos, inwardly thanking his fate for the fact that he used to be chief analyst. The face was familiar. They had a lead.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Okay, sorry for the slight delay, I've been quite busy lately. Hope you enjoy the chapter though!_

_Don't own._

**Chapter 9**

Benji had to blink several times before realizing he was awake. He began to check on his surroundings. Everything was white (well, almost everything), and he was clearly in a bed. _Hospital?_ Could it be that he was just brought to this hospital after the shooting and being captured and tortured was just some kind of a weird dream? Looked like it. The agent sighed. It had felt so real. Too real. More real than now, actually, because now there was no pain at all.

Just as he thought that, the door opened, letting in a familiar looking man. The agent's heart dropped. It was Mike, just as broken and weak as in the "dream".

"They've let me sit here with you," Mike smiled sheepishly. "I can't run away anyway".

Benji didn't know what to think. He just wanted to cry. It was like in one of his childhood nightmares: everything was odd, out of place, and this weirdness was suffocating him, and there was no way out. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he felt so numb. _Numb_. He remembered his arm. He tried to move the fingers on his left hand but to no avail. Summoning all his strength he outstretched his right hand to touch his left. Nothing. The feeling of being lost and going crazy was accompanied by fear. What if he would never be able to use it again?

The movement, however, made Mike giggle.

"Man, you look like you're high or something," he chuckled. "What are they giving you?"

That was an interesting question but Benji didn't feel like thinking about it now.

"I can't feel my arm," he complained instead, hoping that he didn't sound as childishly scared as he thought he did. Mike's face sobered up a bit.

"Oh, I'm so sorry…" for a moment there Benji thought he heard the normal, the sane Mike. There was a silence as neither of them knew what to say. When the agent finally opened his mouth he noticed that his friend was wearing that lost expression again.

"So you're a spy?" he asked. Benji didn't answer. "Like James Bond?"

Mike chuckled at the silence.

"What, if you tell me you'll have to kill me or what?"

The glare he received in response made him swallow his tongue. There was a long pause, after which Mike's voice sounded again, completely serious this time.

"Have you ever killed someone?"

The former technician looked at him attentively before redirecting his gaze back to the opposite wall. In his peripheral view he saw his friend nod.

"And how does it feel?"

Benji swallowed, remembering his first kill in Mumbai. He hadn't doubted his actions for a second. And he never regretted them.

"I just try to think of what would have happened if I hadn't done so," he finally mumbled. "Helps me to know I did the right thing".

Finally the main point of the weirdness around started to dawn on the agent.

"Where _are_ we?" he finally asked, as if at last acknowledging that he wasn't sleeping.

"Very good, the thought process seems intact," a voice sounded from the door, and Benji dully recognized its owner as his recent captor. The broken nose looked hideous on his already hideous face. Definitely worth the effort.

"So, Benjamin," the agent hated that voice anyway but hearing it say his name was even more disgusting. "How are you feeling?"

Benji decided not to grace that question with a reply.

"I am assuming you are not in any kind of pain, are you?"

The ex-technician didn't know where this conversation was heading. He grabbed a glass of water from the table beside his bed and froze with it, having pulled it midway to his mouth, staring at it in utter confusion. The Suit Guy grinned.

"Are you thirsty, Benjamin?" he asked.

Benji looked at him, his expression changing from confusion to shock.

"No," he answered, his voice hoarse and low. What was going on with him?...

"And what about your pain?"

The sudden wave of agony nearly made the former technician jump. He gritted his teeth, trying to suppress a yelp and failing.

"What's wrong with him?" Mike's worried voice sounded through the ringing in Benji's ears. It wasn't just the wounds. _Everything_ hurt. Everything was on fire. Every cell of his body was screaming, and his vision was white. He felt he was about to vomit due to sheer pain when he heard "okay, that's enough" and everything stopped. Panting from the recent experience, he opened his eyes. What the _hell_ was going on?

"Okay, from your expression I see you really have no idea what the Anti-God is," the man sounded so self-satisfied that Benji wondered whether a broken nose was enough. Clearly it wasn't.

"You see," he went on explaining, "technology has always been marching forward. New and more advanced devices and gadgets keep being invented. But we all know that the most perfect computer is the human brain. Many years ago Dr. Wickham and I began our research on the matter. Combining the most complex computer in the world and its most complex inventions. We called it the Anti-God because it looked like we were creating a new human. And the best part? The ability of control. And you have just demonstrated it by doing exactly what we have programmed you to do".

Benji looked at him with the mix of disgust, confusion and horror.

"So I can congratulate you. You are now officially part of the Anti-God. Or, more literally, it is part of you. It's in your blood flow, in your brain. I knew that getting into the pain centre was going to be effective, I'm sure you agree".

Benji felt a lump in his throat. He didn't remember ever being so horrified in his life. He would never believe it was possible if he hadn't just experienced what he had. He wanted to fight, to run away but felt too weak to even raise his arm again.

"That's what you did to the other students?" Mike's voice was now serious and accusing. "Where are they?"

"Oh no," the Suit Guy was sickeningly calm. "They just knew too much. Had to be dealt with when I came back and found out about Phillip's mess up. And thank you for helping me find them".

Tears were streaming down Mike's face.

"Which reminds me," their captor looked at him closely. "While Benjamin here gets some much needed rest to restore his abilities, it's time for you to take your medicine".

Mike's yelps and protests were the last thing Benji heard before slipping into the so much appealing unconsciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: So here's chapter 10! Hope you enjoy it!_

_Don't own them :(_

**Chapter 10**

"So who is this guy again?" Jane asked, gripping the edge of the desk. Brandt began to pace.

"Sidney Burke. We used to keep an eye on him. He seemed to be connected to some biological weapons deals. We lost the track of him when he was supposedly killed three years ago. Now he's showing up here with this Anti-God thing… It can't be a coincidence!"

"Are you sure it's him?" Ethan seemed to be the absolutely calm, if not for the slight twitching of his fingers.

Brandt nodded.

"We are wasting time," he said. The time they might not have. The time _Benji_ might not have.

It didn't take them long to get to the hospital in question. Asking for the needed person didn't take long, either. The reply, however, couldn't mean any good. The man hadn't turned up at work that morning.

The team could do nothing else but drive to his house, vaguely trying to think of some roles on their way, just in case. At this point they were barely concerned about being uncovered. Burke was their only hope to find Benji. They weren't giving up. Or losing any more time. None of them wanted to talk about the suspicions roused by Burke's absence at work. All three of them knew they all had certain worries but they pushed them away.

As they pulled over near Burke's apartment and rushed towards the door, however, some of their worst suspicions were confirmed. The front door was open. Each of the agents could practically hear the others' heartbeat when they stepped inside, on full alert, prepared to any movement or noise.

Inside it looked as though a tornado had passed though the house. The furniture was lying randomly around the place, mostly broken and torn. Pieces of shattered glass could be seen here and there. Clothes had also been thrown around. After about two minutes of cautiously moving forward the team found the owner of the place. With a bullet hole in his temple.

For a moment they just stared at the body. It was Jane who was the first to unfreeze.

"I'm gonna call the police," she muttered, taking her phone out and dialing Thompson's number.

Brandt felt his knees give way as the female agent walked out of the room. Careful not to ruin any piece of evidence he sat at the edge of a chair nearby and hid his face in his hands.

Hope is a tricky thing. You can keep it and you can lose it. And then you can get it back. Brandt had gotten and lost his hope way too many times lately. Ever since he had found out his journey had been over he had hoped to talk to Benji as soon as he had gotten to the US. That hope had died out when he hadn't found his friend in the bar. Then he had waited for the Englishman to return from the mission. He hadn't come back. They had been sent here to find him (Brandt didn't really care about some weird professor guy or any of his inventions at this point) but whoever they were playing against seemed to always be one step ahead. The former analyst simply didn't know how many more times he could revive his hope only for it to be killed over and over again.

Ethan's hand on his shoulder snapped him out of the thoughts.

"We'll find him," the team leader tried to sound reassuring. William knew him too well now to buy that fake reassurance.

"How?" Brandt croaked. He didn't wait for an answer though. "We don't even know whether he's _alive_ at all! God knows what could have happened in this time! If he was alright he would have gotten in touch by now!"

He fell silent, breathing heavily and trying not to sob, feeling his eyes go wet. He swallowed and shook his head fiercely, fighting all this with only slight success.

"How can you be so sure?" he added a bit more calmly. He wanted Ethan to tell him some crazy plan now, or to reason him, anything. He wanted to believe Ethan. Jane who was standing beside him (he hadn't noticed her walking back into the room) also had tears in her eyes.

"I can't," Ethan admitted, and both of the other agents felt their hearts drop. "But we have to keep trying. If there is any chance to find Benji, we can't miss it. We can't forget about our actual mission though. Even if we don't get Benji back… alive… we still have to accomplish the mission and finish what he has started".

Brandt could say he would prefer some fake reassurance over what he had just heard but instead he just nodded. He heard a police car pull over outside the house and stood up from the chair, turning away from his teammates as his surroundings became blurry.

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Two more days went just like that. They had talked to the professors but none of them had told them anything relevant. The agents had never felt so useless. And then something finally happened.

"It was Thompson," Ethan announced, putting his phone back into his pocket. "A man whose description fits to Dr. Wickham was reportedly seen in a car three days ago".

"So the guy was on some kind of holiday and we've been stuck on this mission?" Brandt mocked. "How do they know it was him?"

Ethan just glared at him, making the younger man sigh and nod.

"So, what have you got in mind?" he asked.

"Jane and I will follow the trace of the man. Might lead us somewhere. You stay here and watch out for anything".

"But there's nothing going on here!" the ex-analyst complained. Another glare from the leader, however, made him look down and nod in silent agreement.

They didn't waste any time before doing as agreed. Jane and Ethan left and Brandt felt more alone than ever.

That evening he walked down the same street where Benji and his teammates had been shot. It was just as almost entirely deserted as it must have been back then. After looking around at the surrounding buildings and remembering the window the sniper must have been shooting through (they had already been at the corresponding flat) he turned to walk back. And that was when he felt a puncture in his arm and everything went black.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Quick update while I still can. Hope you enjoy!_

_Still don't own them._

**Chapter 11**

Benji couldn't possibly remember how long it had been since he had been placed into another room which looked much like the prison cell he and Mike had previously been at, only a little bit cleaner. He felt reality slipping out of his grip. Ever now and then he would have some odd black outs. He didn't remember what was going on during them, and it frightened him.

Mike was apparently given the freedom to move around the building as it was evident he couldn't escape anyway. He spent most of his time with Benji who couldn't leave his room, losing any ability to walk every time he tried to. However, Mike did leave him once in a while. The certain freedom the man had didn't mean he had any favors, though, as new and new bruises appeared on him. Benji assumed they were still looking for possible witnesses.

This time, however, the agent decided to bring this up, as his friend looked especially bad. Mike's eye was swollen, his lip busted, he was covered in bruises everywhere where it could be seen, and his eyebrow was split, a trail of already half-dried blood going across his face from it.

"Why are they doing this to you?" Benji asked bitterly as Mike sat next to him. His friend gave him a short glance. When there was no immediate answer, the agent asked again. "I mean, are they looking for other students… or…"

He froze and fell silent. He had a subconscious feeling that he knew what had actually happened but pushed it aside with utter disgust. Mike's eyes, however, had spoken volumes before the man even opened his mouth.

"Guess they want to see how much they can make you do," the voice was weak and pained. Benji felt a lump in his throat. "You do fight pretty well though. Especially for a guy who only has one arm. I mean one _functioning_ arm. At the moment".

The ex-technician couldn't care less about his friend's rushed excuses. He had forgotten even about his arm which was now bandaged securely to his torso. His heart felt like it was being squeezed tightly and was about to jump out of his chest.

"Mike, I am so…"

"It's okay," the other man interrupted softly. "I know it's not you. Looks like their invention is pretty effective though".

Benji rested his head against the wall he was sitting by. After a while he finally managed to look at his friend's face, the horrid beatings making him frown even more now that he knew what or, better to say, who they had come from.

"Why do you keep coming back here then?" his voice sounded completely defeated. "After all that I've done to you?"

"Not your fault," Mike argued.

"I am dangerous…"

"Now you are not," Mike said stubbornly. "Only when you have those… moments. I can't begin to imagine what you are going through now… but I thought you shouldn't be alone".

There was silence. Benji wondered whether Mike was high again and maybe he thought he was in some kind of heroic movie which pushed his self-defense instinct away.

"I tried to figure out how they control you," Mike spoke at last. "So that maybe I could help somehow… but it seems that whatever they use is not here. I saw Wickham leave three days ago. Didn't see him come back though".

Benji looked at him with an unidentifiable expression. He couldn't quite understand how he felt, to be honest. Everything was weird around him but it was much, much weirder inside. He opened his mouth to say thank you or to tell Mike how much he appreciated what he was doing but then it happened again. He felt his vision blur and his heart seemed to be racing. Now that he knew what was coming he tried to gather all his might to focus and not to give in.

Mike saw that struggle and tensed, ready to run away.

"That's right, Benji," he didn't know why he stayed. He just really wanted to help. Or maybe it was just more interesting that way. "Stay with me! Stay here! Hold on!"

Benji tried to focus on the voice. He opened his eyes and could barely make out his friend's features in the darkness which was beginning to block his vision completely. And then there was additional pain without the source. That kind of artificial pain that was nothing but sheer agony without any natural cause. That struggle was too much for the agent.

When he came to his senses, he was alone. He had a feeble hope that Mike had managed to run away and save himself. However he then looked at his right hand and noticed that the knuckles were red. Feeling rage at himself, he slammed his hand into the wall. The skin broke, and several streams of blood began to run down to his wrist. He repositioned his hand so that now blood was sliding down his fingers and dropping to the floor from the tips. It reminded him of Mumbai. One thing, however, was completely different. His fingers had _hurt_ in Mumbai. Now he felt absolutely nothing. It's like it hadn't been his hand that was bleeding at the moment. He was like some kind of a robot. Or a zombie, no matter how ridiculous that sounded. Or, most fittingly, a toy on remote control. Forced to do whatever they wanted him to. Even to use his own friend as a human punching bag. He really hoped he hadn't hurt Mike that much this time. He looked at his still bleeding hand. Turns out being absolutely painless wasn't always good. He wondered if he could still cry. Apparently he could. At the moment.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, I'm just really busy now, having to balance university and work… Hope you enjoy this chapter! And please don't kill me..._

_Don't own them…_

**Chapter 12**

Brandt began to stir but didn't rush with opening his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on before he advertised his now conscious state. He was sitting on a chair, tied to it securely, as his arms were completely unable to move. Great… Just what he needed – being sent on a rescue mission and having to be rescued himself. Finally his curiosity made him give up to his fate and he opened his eyes.

The room he was in was quite small and lit a bit dimly (Brandt was actually glad about it now since bright light would have hurt under such circumstances). He wasn't alone. As soon as he showed signs of coming to, he sensed someone tense behind him. But his major attention fell on the man standing in front of him. Apart from the overall sickening expression, the most notable thing on his face was the broken nose. Brandt immediately thought to himself that whoever had done it was his personal hero.

"Nice of you to join us," Brandt hated the voice the very instant he heard it. It sounded quite nasal because of the man's injury. It least that was satisfying.

"Who the hell are you?" the former analyst managed despite the complete soreness of his throat.

"Well, considering that it is you who has been sneaking here and there for quite a while now, I think the question is, who the hell are _you_?"

Brandt's head snapped to the side as he received a painful punch to the jaw.

"Or maybe I should wait till my men get your interfering little friends?" the man asked, and William's heart sank. So his people were after Ethan and Jane. He could only hope they would be able to defend themselves. Another thought was drilling his brain with unbelievable force. It was more than likely that this man knew what had happened to Benji. And, for that matter, that he had caused it to happen. However, at this stage Brandt decided to play dumb.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in the most innocent and scared voice he could muster. "I'm just a tourist… please…"

"A tourist?" he man gave out a chuckle. "And you and two of your fellow 'tourists' spend most of your time at a police station?"

The agent mentally kicked himself for such a stupid suggestion. He didn't have the right to make such mistakes.

Another mighty punch to the jaw sent his world spinning. His lip split and a thin trail of blood ran down his chin. His captor stood there, looking at him, seemingly thinking something through.

"Okay," he said, and his face grimaced in a stupid grin. "Your attitude just reminds me of someone I met a few days ago. I think you would like to meet him, too. He's such a peculiar person. Enjoys being a mystery, just like you".

Brandt's heart was racing. He was almost entirely sure he knew who this guy was talking about. So Benji was alive. That was a great relief. However, the tone he was using was really alarming.

"I should warn you though, I don't think you will make friends with him. He's a bit too… special," as the tied man looked up in utter puzzlement, he showed another disgusting grin and proclaimed "Send him to me".

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Benji tried to think. He had to figure out… something. Anything. Crying wouldn't help here. He wouldn't get far by moaning.

The main discouraging point was that he had no idea where to even start his thinking. What _was_ this Anti-God? Some kind of nanotechnology? Most likely. Benji started wondering what would happen even if he managed to escape somehow. Would he be able to get it out? How were they controlling him? And was there really a way to stop it?

Then his thoughts trailed off to other matters. So they were interested in his skills. Fair enough. He cringed, realizing that they could virtually make him commit any kind of crime. Do anything. And get away with it. He was essentially a weapon in their arsenal.

He suddenly had a rush of energy and ran to the door of his cell room. It wasn't even locked. Without any thought he ran downstairs, not realizing what and why he was doing. It all was a bit of a blur after that.

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Brandt was completely mesmerized when he watched a man enter the room. It was the person he was afraid he would never see again. The person he had missed and was afraid he would never be able to talk to. It was his best friend. However, the ex-technician's appearance didn't make William all that happy. The sight of the other agent's bandaged and lifeless left arm made him wince, sending the flashbacks through his mind. It couldn't be because of that wound… It couldn't be that serious… The unsteady way Benji walked suggested some possible internal damage.

The worst thing this was his face. All bruises and small bleeding cuts aside, the expression on the tech's face was terrifying. That is, the lack of any expression. Not a single muscle flinched on that mask he seemed to be wearing. Brandt wondered whether it was indeed someone wearing a mask of his friend.

"Benji…" the ex-analyst couldn't hold back the whisper.

"Oh, so you know him," the man cheered. It was clear he had been expecting that. "Say, shall we let you have a little reunion?"

At that very moment Benji's face showed the signs of recognition. His blue eyes looked so pained, so absolutely terrified and miserable. And a bit guilty. It was hard for Brandt to take it. Benji wasn't supposed to look like that. He was supposed to offer that famous big goofy grin of his, to crack silly jokes and annoy the hell out of Ethan.

The grin on the captor's face widened as he took out a gun and gave it to Benji who took it without a single world. Brandt's eyes went wide with utter shock.

"I see you are curious," the suited man added. "Well, before you die, I think you can know Benjamin's little secret. Let me show you something".

He produced a knife from somewhere in his pocket and approached the ex-tech who never stopped looking at the analyst. And then the man just moved the knife towards Benji's face and drew it across his forehead. Brandt wanted to scream. Wanted him to stop, as he saw blood pouring down from the cut. But his voice died in his throat. There was something even more unnaturally terrifying about it. Benji didn't even flinch all the way through. He was now looking down, not reacting to anything.

"Impressive, isn't it?" the suit guy moved aside, looking quite satisfied. "He didn't feel anything, don't you worry. But now you will be even more impressed," he looked at Benji whose face was now almost completely red. "Shoot him".

Patronized, Brandt watched the former tech draw the gun and take aim right at his chest.

"Benji," he couldn't understand anything. Was he sleeping? "What is going on? Do you even hear me? Benji—"

He was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. At first he couldn't understand what was going on until he looked down and saw blood pouring down his shirt. And then the pain hit him.

"Oh, come on, take a better aim!" the guy now sounded irritated. "That's right…"

Another gunshot echoed from the walls of the building. This time Benji had, indeed, taken a better aim.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Thank you for not killing me after my previous chapter! I hope you enjoy this one ;)_

_I don't own them…_

**Chapter 13**

Brandt couldn't believe what was happening. It was too crazy. So crazy that even trying to make sense out of it made his head hurt. The first shot tore through his arm, also breaking some of the ropes restraining him as the bullet went through the muscle and came out from the other side. Gritting his teeth in pain, the former analyst struggled to look up at his shooter. For a moment he thought he saw tears on his friend's face but it was hard to tell because of the blood from his forehead covering it. There was something else there, too. It looked like he was struggling against pain or something Brandt couldn't even begin to understand. Benji's hand was shaking when he aimed the gun right at William's head this time. In anticipation of whatever was going to come next, Brandt shut his eyes. He heard a gunshot. No additional pain anywhere. Then there was the sound of a body hitting the floor. Still no pain. Brandt opened his eyes.

Benji was standing at the same point where he had been before, shaking and panting quite badly. Their captor was lying on the floor, a pool of blood forming underneath him. For some reason Benji suddenly dropped the gun and pushed it with his foot as far as he could. Brandt opened his mouth to ask his friend just what the hell was going on, but the sudden alarmed expression of the tech's face distracted him. The analyst quickly remembered about the goon behind him who was probably just coming out of his stupor. Using the damage to the ropes, he shot up, breaking free from their remains, and grabbed the chair he had been tied to before hitting the unsuspecting goon with it. The guy proved to be tougher than Brandt had expected him to. Or maybe the hit with the chair wasn't perfectly placed. Either way, the agent had to put a bit more effort to take the guy out, as quite a short fight occurred.

Having made sure the attacker was out cold, Brandt finally turned to look at Benji and his eyes widened in the mix of confusion and worry. The former technician was nowhere to be seen.

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Dr. Phillip Wickham was truly fascinated with how the experiment had been going so far. The subject was responding well, obeying to every command almost instantly. Occasionally he tried to fight it with his will but that was to be expected. And it could be overpowered.

Wickham was also fascinated with Mr. Benzie's insight. Having a communicator and being able to send the commands to Wickham who had the controls to send them to the subject… Genius. And placing them at distance from each other meant it would be harder to figure the whole thing out. He watched the numbers and indexes on the screen, nodding to himself. The only thing he regretted was that he didn't have the video connection, as they didn't have enough time to place cameras everywhere in the building.

Sometime before now he would have called such experiments utterly outrageous. Now he had no idea why he would say that. It was definitely a huge step forward for the science. And several sacrifices were nothing compared to the progress of the whole mankind. And it was Mr. Benzie who shared this wisdom with him.

His phone rang, and he picked it up despite not wanting to tear his attention from the screen. The voice on the other side was familiar. It was one of Mr. Benzie's guards.

"Doc, there are two people heading your way," he said without any formalities. "We'll try to stop them".

"And why are you calling _me_ then?" Wickham didn't like to get distracted. If they could deal with the situation by themselves, what was the point of disturbing him?

"Well…" the guard was unsure. "Thought you might want to know…"

Wickham rolled his eyes and disconnected. When he looked back at the screen, he turned pale. He ran a few additional procedures and checked the comm. After a short hesitation he made the decision. He had to stick to the plan after all.

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Things were getting progressively more and more insane every second. Brandt's mind was racing. He had to find Benji. He had to warn Jane and Ethan about a more than probable attack. If it wasn't too late. And he really had to get some help, as his arm was bleeding quite badly. He immediately decided to delay the last one for a while.

He searched through the guard's pockets before finding a phone and dialing the number. He had to hold back a relieved sigh when he heard Ethan's voice.

"It's Brandt," he mumbled quickly and had to interrupt a flow of worried questions he heard from both of the other agents. "Listen, you have a situation there…"

"I know!" Ethan yelled. All Brandt could hear after that was the noise of a speeding engine and some distant gunshots. He sighed. Not as reassuring as he wanted. But he had to hope that two agents as good as Ethan and Jane were could deal with some average goons. He took the guard's gun and hesitated before taking the one lying on the floor, too. He had to be ready for more obstacles.

Having ran out of the room he found himself in a long corridor. As there was no better option, he just ran down it, bursting all the doors he could see open, sometimes having to smash them, ignoring the pain it caused and the slight dizziness most likely due to the blood loss. All of the rooms were empty. Except for one.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: So here's chapter 14! Hope it doesn't disappoint…_

_Don't own!_

**Chapter 14**

The small room was completely dark and at first the former analyst assumed it was empty like the previous ones. However, in the dim light coming from the corridor he spotted some movement. Prepared for it to be a trap, he cautiously walked forward. As his eyes got adjusted to the poor light, he finally made out a body lying on the floor. It wasn't his friend though. The guy looked like he had been through some of the worst times of his life. His face was covered in blood and bruises to the point where it was actually difficult to see his features. He looked at Brandt with curiosity, visibly being too far past the pain limit to be scared or worried about the stranger. The agent didn't know what to do. Maybe he should just call for help, an ambulance, anything, and proceed to look for Benji. Or maybe he should pay some attention to this guy. Maybe he knew something about the whole thing.

"Who are you?" the man finally asked, bringing the analyst back to his senses.

"I'm…" Brandt trailed off, not knowing how to respond. "I'm looking for my friend. He must be somewhere here. His name's Benji… I mean, Benjamin. He's got blonde hair and…"

It felt really awkward and stupid. And completely inappropriate to the whole situation. However, the guy's eyes sparkled with something resembling hope.

"Are you saying you're Benji's friend?" he asked as quickly as his badly busted lip allowed him to. Having received a shaky nod in response, he let out a short sigh. "I know where he might be. That is, if he's where they usually keep him".

Brandt could feel his blood boil at this. He hated to think of his friend being "kept" somewhere. Sounded too animalistic.

"And who are you?" the agent asked, watching the poor guy's attempts at recollecting his strength. He seemed to have at least a couple fractured ribs. Whatever they had needed from him the way they had tried to get it was inhumanly cruel.

"Just call me Mike," was the answer. Seeing from the other man's stare that it wasn't enough, he added, "I was one of Wickham's students. Friend of Benji's. And you?..."

"Just call me Brandt," the agent responded, helping Mike to his feet. When he didn't clarify, Mike made an expression which could be identified as a smile. "Guess you are his co-worker".

Brandt didn't know exactly what that meant but decided they had already spent too long on talking. Still supporting Mike, he led them out of the room and back into the corridor. He heard footsteps behind them and turned just in time to react to the guard aiming at them. Mike winced as the guy fell dead to the floor but said nothing. He tried to think about what would have happened if Brandt hadn't done that. Actually there were a lot of thoughts in his head but he tried to push them aside, focusing on the sheer hope to live.

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Jane tried to hold on to her seat as Ethan took one wild spin after another. They had to break loose. Or at least get into a more crowded area. Another gunshot – and the back window of their car was smashed. She pushed herself through the window and fired back. For some reason it didn't work quite like it did in action movies, as she had to hide back into the relative safety of the car.

Carter saw they were approaching a crossroad. She also noticed the road seemed to be quite busy. But the most disturbing thing she noticed was the light in Ethan's eyes. Like the rest of the team, she was just as much scared of that light as she was fascinated by it. She had no time to ask questions or object in any way. All she could do was close her eyes and wait for all this to blow over. Somehow.

She opened her eyes only when she heard the sound of a terrible crash behind them. Ethan had a wide grin on his face. He wasn't going to slow down. This chase was time-consuming enough already.

"Call Thompson," he finally ordered. "Ask him for further directions".

Jane obeyed without a word. They would have time to discuss agent Hunt's insane tactics. Now wasn't this time.

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It was hard to tell how long Brandt and Mike had spent on walking down some corridors, trying to keep as quiet as they could. Brandt had a feeling they were way too slow but Mike obviously couldn't move any faster. He could feel the man wince and hiss with every step.

Finally, they reached another small room. Mike let out a deep breath before opening it, remembering all the previous times he had been there. They stepped inside and froze. The room was empty.

"I don't understand," Mike mumbled, feeling Brandt's stare drill holes in his head. "Where else can he be… they never let him out of here…"

"But he _was_ out when I saw him," Brandt argued. Now it was Mike's turn to stare. "He was… he shot me," the agent went on and saw a sympathetic look on the other man's face. "What is wrong with him, anyway?" Mike opened his mouth to say something but Brandt kept talking. "Then he killed the guy in a suit and…"

Mike's gasp made the former analyst stop.

"He killed Benzie?" he was truly panicking. "Quick!" He turned round and made to run out but fell down at once.

"What is going on?" Brandt yelled, not caring about being noisy any more.

Gasping for breath and gritting his teeth in pain, Mike began to explain.

"Benzie and Wickham made a very advanced technology…"

"The Anti-God," Brandt interrupted but Mike's glare made him cringe.

"Yes. And, in simple terms, it gives them access to the human brain. They can basically control other people's actions".

It began making sense. Brandt felt chills down his spine. So Benji was under their control. They were using his friend - his best friend - as a puppet. And even tried to make him kill him. The ex-analyst felt even dizzier than before.

"Wickham has the controls and Benzie gave orders. Benji tried to fight it… But he never succeeded at that. I doubt it is possible to fight it. Before Wickham left I had overheard his talk with Benzie. It was about the last order to give Benji if something happens to Benzie".

The sudden flow of different names was another challenge for the agent. As Mike was trying to catch his breath, he used that time to try to make sense of those words.

"And what was this order?" he finally asked. The reply Mike barely audibly breathed out was like a heavy blow to the gut.

"Self destruction".


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Ummm… I really hope you won't beat me to death with a cricket bat for this chapter…_

_Still don't own them, sadly :(_

**Chapter 15**

The noise from outside the room was getting louder and closer while Wickham was watching the subject's status on the screen, barely paying attention to the distractions. It was only when the door burst open that he realized that something was really out of place, as two people he didn't know, a man and a woman, walked in, both looking like they had just had some physical exercise. Wickham swallowed. He was in trouble.

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Brandt's throat was sore and his stomach felt like it was doing flips inside him.

"What do you mean, self destruction?" he asked as if not truly understanding the meaning of those words. Mike's glare was all it took for him to shake himself.

"Where is he then?" this question seemed much more sensible. The analyst took Mike's hand and pulled him up but the movement was too rushed and caused the other man to gasp.

"I… I don't know," Mike's voice was shaking with despair and worry. The energy that had come over him a minute before was gone now. He didn't want to run any more. He simply had no idea where to run.

Brandt shut his eyes. Everything was just too crazy. His friend was about to self destruct like a message from the headquarters (the analyst mentally slapped himself in the back of the head for such a comparison), and there was nothing he could do about it, even though Benji couldn't be far away. Suddenly he had an idea.

"So you're saying Wickham has the controls?" he asked. After receiving a shaky nod he fished the guard's phone from his pocket (he knew it was a good idea to have taken it with him) and dialed the number. He could only pray for Jane and Ethan to be already there. And to be alive and well. After of few painful seconds he finally heard his leader's voice and didn't wait for him to ask any questions.

"Ethan, have you reached Wickham?" he asked instead, his heart pounding like a miniature drum kit in his chest.

"_Yes…"_ Ethan sounded a bit distracted. _"We can't make sense out of what he's saying… The experiment… The subject… self destruction… Where are you, anyway?"_

"Ask him where Benji is," Brandt interrupted. "He's somewhere in this building. You have to ask directly. Everyone's crazy over here".

"_Benji?"_ Jane's voice sounded. Apparently Ethan had turned the call on loud speaker for some reason. Maybe to have more convenience in dealing with Wickham. _"Is he…"_

Brandt knew she wanted to ask whether the tech was still alive. He wanted to say yes. He hoped they were not too late. But the longer they spoke, the more time they wasted.

"We don't have the time," he barked instead.

"_You heard the question,"_ Ethan's voice was cold and demanding. For a few seconds there was silence after which Jane let out a gasp.

"What is it?" Brandt asked impatiently.

"_He's in a small room near the laboratory,"_ Ethan sounded completely calm. Brandt knew this tone. It wasn't the genuine calm. It was the tone people put on when they try to calm down and not give up to the panic.

"Got it," the former analyst disconnected and turned to Mike. He really hoped to get some help from the guy. He also hoped that the dark spots in his eyes wouldn't turn into complete darkness. At least for now.

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Everything was becoming clearer. Benji could actually feel the blinding white get away from his sight, as his senses were coming back to him. He wasn't painless any more. It was actually relieving to feel pain in his shoulder, his ribs, somewhere inside his abdomen, his hand he had hit the wall with and his… forehead? What on earth had happened to it? Benji touched it and felt some sticky liquid. Already knowing what it was, he looked at his hand to see the blood which was beginning to dry out. Where had it all come from? And why was he feeling so odd at the moment?

He began recalling whatever he could remember about any of the recent events. It was like a slide show. He vaguely remembered pointing a gun and Brandt. Blood on his friend's arm. Pain. Shooting the Suit Guy. More pain. Having to throw the gun away just to be safe, in order not to hurt Brandt any more. Or anyone else, for that matter. More pain, too much this time. And then everything was blank.

Benji looked around him, trying to figure out where he was. It was only then that he noticed some strange smell. It was something he could barely register but he didn't know how important or irrelevant it was. He wanted to get out. He rushed to the door, hissing and wincing all the time as his broken ribs were letting him know about themselves. However, when he tried to open the door, he realized he couldn't. It seemed to be automatic, and there was nothing inside the room he could use for control. He suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous. His lungs clearly knew there was something wrong with the air. And then it hit him.

Of course… the Suit Guy wouldn't trust the crazy Wickham with the project. Therefore the subject of the experiment needed to be removed. The gas he was breathing now was most likely poisonous.

A sudden wave of panic came over the former technician like a hurricane. He didn't want to die. He wanted to get out. Wanted to live. He ran into the door, hitting it with all of his weight. He started knocking at it with his fist. He didn't know how long he had been going until exhaustion combined with the effects of the poison kicked in, and he fell heavily to the floor, unable to move anymore.

_That's it. I'm trapped._

He was scared. It was natural though. As natural as breathing. As natural as pain. All of the pain he was feeling now was real. He wasn't a robot anymore. Or a puppet. Or a zombie. He was alive. He hadn't felt as alive as now in the past days. And after all that numbness, he had an impression that he had never felt so alive in his entire life. And he was going to die.

His thoughts were running messily in his head, tripping over one another and falling over like characters in a scene from a silent comedy film. He tried to think of something good. He remembered his friends. Mike (_I hope you are alright_), Ethan, Jane, Brandt… He practically saw their faces in front of him, hearing pieces of conversations he had had with them.

It was getting harder to breathe. Benji wondered whether holding his breath would help. _No it wouldn't, you idiot,_ he answered to himself. _So you can breathe. At least it's an action. Something to make an effort for, to show you are still alive._

And so he did. He breathed in and out. And in. And out. He wondered which one (in or out) would be the last one. He never found out. Soon there was the moment when there was an "out" but no "in" after it. But Benji was already unable to register anything at that point, completely consumed by the darkness. The last thing he had registered, however, had sounded a lot like Brandt shouting from a long distance…

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A little red dot on Wickham's screen had been twinkling with increasing intensity for the past two minutes before disappearing. Wickham nodded to himself despite being held at gunpoint. Mr. Benzie's last wish had come true.

"The experiment is over," he proclaimed to himself as he watched his captors exchange alarmed looks.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Thank you for not killing me for the last chapter! I hope I'll survive after this one, too…_

_Still don't own them :(_

**Chapter 16**

Brandt ran in the needed direction, Mike limping stubbornly behind him despite the agent was getting further away every second. Both of them fully realized the need to get there in time. Both dreaded the worst.

The agent stormed into the lab and looked for the door. After a few seconds of scanning he spotted it. A metallic door in the far wall. Not wanting to lose any more precious time he ran towards it and proceeded to open it… but failed. It was locked. No matter how he tried he couldn't even see the lock. He started banging on the door out of sheer despair, feeling the pain in his injured arm multiply as he used it without thinking about the wound. He had come so close and now he couldn't save his friend because of some stupid door.

"Benji!" he yelled, his voice threatening to break any moment. "Benji, are you there?" there was no response. An invisible hand squeezing his heart seemed to be tightening its grip. "Just hold on, okay?" he was getting quieter with every word he said. The "please hold on" he added after it was a mere whisper.

He had no idea what was going on behind that door. He had no idea how to get there. He made to put his hands behind his head in an exasperated manner and hissed, remembering his injury again. He looked out of the lab in search for Mike but the poor guy seemed to be too far behind. The guard's phone rang in his pocket. After a few seconds of ignoring the call he finally picked up and felt a slight relief upon hearing Ethan's voice on the other side.

"_Brandt,"_ the team leader sounded panicked. That was a bad sign. _"Have you got him?"_

"No," the former analyst breathed out. "Why? What…"

"_They are using some kind of a gas. It's lethal to humans and destroys this Anti-God stuff. So that no-one finds out anything if they find the body"._

Brandt barely heard Hunt's "be careful" as he lowered the hand holding the phone. _The body._ Did Ethan even realize it was actually _Benji_ he was talking about? Their lively Benji Dunn. He wasn't… couldn't be… It sounded too much like their team leader had lost his hope. And if Ethan Hunt had lost his hope, it meant things were going really bad. A noise not far from him made him come back from his trance.

"Okay, Brandt," Mike was breathing heavily, leaning on the control desk, trying to stay upright. When the agent moved in his direction in order to help, he raised his hands dismissively. "I'm gonna try to open the door, and you'd better stay there, closer to it. So that you're fast enough to…" the analyst's nod cut him off and spared him some time.

As Mike got to typing something, Brandt just stood there. He had never felt so useless. His friend was just there, behind that metallic door, and there was nothing he could do. He didn't even know whether Benji was alive at all. Simple as that. He was torn between the need to keep his hope, his fear of the worst and the rational need to be prepared for the worst. He clung to hope instead. As blindly as he could.

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"Your friend is lucky," Wickham seemed to be as calm as anything. Ethan and Jane exchanged glances once again.

"How is he lucky?" Jane finally asked. "What do you mean?"

"Isn't the gas working as you told us?" Ethan figured the guy was crazy and had lost the good grace to know right and wrong. Violence wasn't needed to get the information here.

"Gas?" Wickham narrowed his eyes. "Oh, no, it has already worked. No, I meant your other friend. Normally there would be lots of guards to stop him but most of them followed you. That's such luck for him!"

"What do you mean by 'has already worked'?" Jane felt sick. She had already had her suspicions but she wouldn't believe them until she heard a direct confirmation.

"I think you know what I mean, my dear," he gave a soft smile. "You seem to be clever. Why would I offend you with direct answers when you know them already?"

Carter's vision blurred and she felt tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh, don't be upset," Wickham added softly. "It's such a huge step forward for the science. I'm disappointed you can't see the bigger picture. It's just one life on the way of the progress of the mankind".

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"Got it!" Mike quipped after what seemed like days and weeks of typing. "The door's unlocked!"

Without a second's delay Brandt rushed to it, happy that there finally was something for him to do… And the door still wouldn't open. The former analyst threw a confused look at the other man. And then tried again. The door wasn't locked, indeed. Something was holding it from the other side, not letting it open. As the agent pushed a bit harder, it finally budged. Holding his breath, he stepped inside and had to summon all of his strength in order to stop his dizziness as soon as he saw what exactly had been keeping the door from being opened. It was, indeed, a body. The body of his best friend.

Trying to block all of his thoughts for at least a few seconds, he dragged Benji out of the room and back into the laboratory, shutting the door behind him so that the gas wouldn't get to them. As he rolled the tech onto his back and got a proper look at his appearance, he felt nauseous.

The bandages on the ex-technician's shoulder were soaked in red, exhibiting the sings of a recent bleeding. He must have disturbed the wound while trying to get out. The analyst felt a suffocating lump in his throat at the thought. Blood from the cut on Benji's forehead was covering a significant part of his face, mixing with some of the already dried out blood from older cuts. However, the worst part were his eyes. Those blue eyes that had always shined with emotion. They were wide open. Unmoving, unseeing. Empty. Just like in that dream. Only this time everything was too real.

Brandt rubbed his own eyes violently, getting rid of the tears. He wouldn't let Benji leave that easily. There was no way he would let this happen. Not today. Not ever.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: Thank you for the great reviews! I love you all! Hope you enjoy this one, too!_

_I still don't own them for some strange reason…_

**Chapter 17**

Brandt's hand was shaking when he placed it on Benji's neck, trying to find any sign of a heartbeat. He couldn't. Maybe it was because his hands were shaking too much, maybe because his own heart was pounding in his ears too loudly. Maybe because there simply wasn't any.

Not wanting to accept his worst fear as a fact, he bowed down, giving his friend some air. Trying to breathe life back into him. And inwardly wincing at how cold he felt. He pressed on his chest and regretted it at once as he felt that some of the former technician's ribs were fractured. He could only do more harm.

Brandt swallowed a lump in his throat which was threatening to get out as a sob. _Come on Benji, please don't do this. Don't go. Just come back. Just don't give up._ He would have said all that out loud but he couldn't lose any more of Benji's time. The time Benji might have already lost. But he couldn't stop. It would mean that he, William Brandt, had given up despite begging Benji not to. And that would be hypocritical of him.

His vision was getting blurry and darkened. He didn't realize he had been crying for quite a while. The dark spots he now saw, however, were not the tears. His own blood loss, the fatigue and the fact that he was giving the air to his friend instead of breathing normally all combined and started slowly dragging him into darkness. He rubbed his eyes again. He knew that the mere unconsciousness for him meant certain death for Benji.

He sensed some movement nearby but didn't dare to react as all of his attention was focused on his friend's breathless form. He thought he saw something. And heard. He bowed down, unable to be certain about anything. And he heard the most beautiful sound in the world. Benji was breathing. Rapidly and shallowly. But it was something. Brandt was so relieved that he started to actually wonder whether he was delusional. A cough from somewhere next to him shook him up.

"Should close his eyes," a weak voice sounded and the former analyst finally managed to lock his eyes on the man kneeling by his side.

"He's not dead," Brandt wanted it to sound protective but he was too weak and those words came out as a feeble whisper. Mike outstretched his hand and ran it over the tech's face, shutting his eyes gently.

"There. So they won't… get… dry…" his voice wrecked, and it took Brandt a short glance to see why. A thin trail of blood was trickling down Mike's chin and he was pressing his hand to his chest.

The analyst wanted to react, to say something, but his strength left him. He felt he was falling as the darkness around him was getting thicker. He didn't remember how he actually fell down. For a few seconds all he could hear was Benji's erratic breathing which was unbelievably comforting despite everything. Until it got weaker. And then stopped again. Brandt's brain was racing. His last thought was that maybe he just couldn't hear it, that maybe he was on some stage of unconsciousness when you still can think but can't receive any information or something like that… But then several sets of footsteps broke the silence. And who were those people? Brandt felt panic go through him like electric current but he didn't have an opportunity to do anything as the darkness finally fell on him and everything disappeared.

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Slowly the surroundings came into William Brandt's view. Dull hospital. He wondered how many times their missions ended up with him waking up at some hospital.

"Hey," Jane looked absolutely exhausted and her face was wet with tears but the smile she gave him was warm and welcoming.

"Hey," Brandt breathed out. He shut his eyes for a moment and frowned upon hearing another voice.

"So, Mr. Brandt," William opened his eyes and saw a doctor standing by his bed. _When had he had the time to walk in?..._ "You've been lucky. You have a minor concussion. You might experience weakness and dizziness due to the blood loss from your arm, but I'm happy to inform you that it hasn't been severely damaged. It seems like the bullet had gone through and through, only bursting some blood vessels. Now you should get some rest after your traumatic experience".

As the man left, the former analyst tried to make sense out what was happening. His arm… the bullet… _Benji!_

That thought made Brandt jolt upright in his bed with his heart seemingly somewhere in his throat. He turned his gaze to Jane who now looked slightly worried at the outburst.

"Benji," he simply said. The female agent's face began to crumple. "Where is he?"

"Look, Brandt…"

"Just tell me," William's eyes were welling up. This didn't promise anything good.

"He's here, too," Carter finally forced, and her friend allowed himself a relieved sigh. "Ethan is with him. He can't breathe on his own, Brandt. His lungs were damaged very badly by that gas, and now he's on machines…"

Brandt swallowed hard. He knew Jane would probably regret telling him all this later but now it was obvious that she, too, was scared.

"Will he be alright?" that sounded much quieter than intended but Jane heard it anyway.

"They say the damage can heal," Brandt could practically hear the hope in his friend's voice. "But they don't know how long he had been with no oxygen so there is no way of finding out whether there is any damage to his brain unless he wakes up".

William managed a little nod and let his head fall back onto the pillow.

"There was one more person with us," it was almost a murmur. "His name's Mike…"

Jane nodded.

"Some beatings. One of his fractured ribs punctured his lung. The doctors say he'll be alright though. Who is he, anyway?"

"A friend," Brandt muttered, feeling his eyelids go heavy as he drifted into sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Okay, this update took me a while… I hope it's worth the wait!_

_I still don't own the characters, I really begin to wonder why…_

**Chapter 18**

Apart from the already familiar noises of the medical equipment, the room was just as quiet as yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. Brandt wasn't entirely sure how many days exactly it had been since every day was just the same and he didn't bother looking up the date. Actually he was a bit afraid of looking it up as every additional second of waiting took a portion of his hope away. It must have been quite a while, he reckoned.

Brandt had been released from hospital quite fast as his injuries proved to be not particularly serious. Ever since that day he had been spending most of his time with Benji. Most of the time Jane and Ethan were with him. Occasionally they would leave, though, having to settle down everything related to their latest mission. And it was a mess. Inspector Thompson complained about the sheer amount of paperwork he had to go through despite most of the information being secret and taken care of by the "FBI" agents he acquired. Brandt barely listened to his friends whenever they mentioned all that in conversations. He was just grateful to them for leaving him out of this.

Sometimes he would pop into Mike's room to see how the guy was doing and say hi. It felt a bit awkward as he didn't even quite know him. But at the same time it felt right. Every time Mike would ask how Benji was doing. Every time he got the same reply and just nodded gently, the quiet hope shining in his eyes.

"_So you work with Benji?" Mike asked one day, making Brandt take an uneasy pause. He remembered Mike saying that a while ago but back then he hadn't paid much attention to anything._

"_Yes…" he answered uncertainly, mentally preparing himself to be assumed to be an IT expert which he certainly wasn't. However, instead of asking any more questions, Mike just nodded._

"_I knew Benji couldn't be just an IT expert," he stated. Noticing Brandt's confused look, he added: "I know he isn't. And I won't tell anyone who you are, don't worry. Although I don't actually know that much"._

"_What made you think he couldn't be just an IT expert?" the former analyst decided that changing the topic would be the best tactic in such a situation._

"_That's just too small for him," Mike managed to smile with the corners of his lips. "No matter how much he loves technology, he never liked just sitting indoors all day. He has always needed some action"._

"_Well, he sometimes reconsiders that," Brandt smiled against his will, remembering Benji's "I'm on the computer" in Dubai. To be fair, it did seem just too crazy even to Ethan…_

"_The doctors say I might be able to get up soon…" Mike's voice suddenly ended the flashback. Who could think that a flashback from the time the world was on the brink of a nuclear war with everything (primarily the clock) working against you, could be a happy memory?... "… so that I might come and see him"._

Brandt hadn't seen Mike in the past two days, as his worry for the former technician multiplied. He was still unconscious. To Brandt it looked like nothing had changed at all. The doctors would say a lot of complicated stuff which was meant to sound like something good but all the three agents could see was their friend still lying there and not showing any visible signs of life.

Now Jane and Ethan had left again, and Brandt was sitting in silence, looking at Benji's motionless form. He tried to think of something to say but he had already told his friend all the stories he could possibly remember. He didn't even have the strength for fear or despair any more. It was all dull and quiet. As if the time had stopped at some point.

The door opened, letting in Mike who stumbled in, still wearing his hospital pajamas. He exchanged nods with Brandt, turned his gaze to Benji and swallowed, his eyes wide and welling up. Brandt looked down. He must have had the same reaction when he had first come there. It was quite an unsettling sight. Now the ex-analyst was slightly worried by the fact that it didn't affect him that much anymore.

"How is it going?" Mike finally asked in a small voice, sitting down on a chair to the opposite side of the bed.

"Same as always," Brandt smirked bitterly.

Mike sighed. He looked at Benji, then at Brandt hesitantly. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it and looked back at the former technician instead.

"Hi," he said, and his voice wrecked on that single short word. "I just came to say… So that you know that I am alright".

He felt Brandt's questioning gaze on him but ignored it.

"Nothing of what happened there is your fault, Benji. You know I never blamed you, right? Everything is fine now," he made a pause to calm his breathing and swallow the lump in his throat while Brandt was still staring at him. He had no idea what Mike was talking about but somehow he felt that all that time (it had to be like a couple of months already) it was something he wanted to hear. Despite knowing that Benji never blamed him for that goddamned gunshot he needed to hear that from the tech himself. But the English agent never got to say that.

"Well, actually, not everything is fine," Mike went on, his voice shaking even worse now. "The only thing that is not fine is you. I know you need to take your time but you're taking too long. And I know you don't like missing out like this".

Mike looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. He looked completely exhausted.

"I need to go," he sighed weakly. "But I'll be back soon so you'd better be up when I come to visit you next time".

He got up, crossed the room, gave Brandt one more nod and left, shutting the door quietly.

"Did you hear that?" the analyst managed to speak at last. "I don't really know what your friend there wanted to say but it sounded like he had a point…" He thought he noticed Benji's eyelids move slightly and held his breath. "Benji?"

The tech's eyelids shifted a bit and his eyes half-opened for a second before closing again. Brandt gripped his hand and couldn't stop a silly smile (which must have looked a lot like one of Benji's famous grins) as he felt his friend squeezing it weakly.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: So there goes another chapter! I think the next one might be the last… Hope this one's okay!_

_I don't own them, really._

**Chapter 19**

It had to be like two more weeks of communicating via a system of blinks and tapping fingers before the doctors finally declared that Benji could breathe on his own.

_At one point of those two weeks Brandt witnessed one strange scene which left him slightly worried as he had no idea how to take it. Having finally regained consciousness and the ability to keep his eyes open, Benji turned his gaze to his left arm which was a bit of a tricky task as he was still too weak to lift his head up. He looked at his fingers with an incredible concentration, as if they had been someone else's and he had been trying to move them with the power of his mind._

"_What is it?" Brandt asked, and his worry increased when his friend didn't seem to acknowledge those words. "What's wrong? Benji?"_

_The former technician never stopped looking at his hand. A single tear escaped the corner of his eye and rolled down his face when the fingers twitched slightly. Exhausted by this task, he shut his eyes, looking calmer. The analyst just swallowed, not knowing what to think of it._

Now Ethan, Jane and Brandt all watched the mask being removed from their friend's face as if it had been some kind of an ancient ceremonial ritual. They couldn't wait to finally hear his voice. Oddly enough, they missed even his occasional babbling. They had to wait for a few seconds as the tech was catching his breath, as if having forgotten how to breathe at all. As those painful seconds passed, the team leader finally found his voice.

"How are you feeling?" that was a standard question. It was just equally appropriate and stupid.

Benji swallowed, trying to make his tongue move in the right way to create proper words. Turned out speaking was difficult.

"Hurts," he finally breathed out, sounding nothing like himself. That single word made the agents wince both with slight relief and sympathy. They heard the voice but there was no Benji in it.

"The doctors said it was possible… you haven't healed 100%... the chest pains…" looked like it was Jane's turn to babble now. "I can give you some painkillers…"

Benji shook his head and then had to rest it on the pillow.

"No," he finally managed. "Better this way. I can… deal with it".

All that time Brandt was sitting there in silence, not knowing what to say or where even to begin. He figured that talking about that shooting accident was a bit out of place now.

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Days kept passing. Benji seemed to get better but his lips never even twitched with a slightest ghost of a smile. The other agents decided not to bring it up as none of them could fully imagine what exactly their friend had been through. They were definitely going to talk about it later.

Sometimes Mike came for a visit, flashing the four agents a wide grin. It was one of his visits that changed the calm pace of events.

It was just at the end of a visit. Mike stood up and, just as he turned to the door, stopped and span round.

"Oh, Benji," he paused awkwardly. "I never got to say it… but um… I'm sorry. 'bout your Dad that is…"

There was another awkward silence as the three agents turned their confused gazes to the former technician who bit his lip and nodded weakly, his eyes welling up a bit. Mike returned the nod and headed to the door.

"What was that about?" Ethan asked as soon as the door closed.

"My father died last year," the tech almost whispered, looking anywhere but at his friends and yet still feeling their stares on him.

"Why didn't you say something?" Jane's incredulous voice had some other notes in it. She sounded a bit hurt.

"We were on a mission," Benji's voice was now even lower and weaker. "Pakistan. I didn't want to be a bother".

He could hear his colleagues gasp, as if trying to say something but failing to find the right words. He finally found it in him to look up at them. Jane had tears in her eyes, Ethan was stone-faced and Brandt was looking down so that the former technician couldn't see his expression. It hurt Benji to see his teammates so upset. It was one of the reasons he hadn't told them. He didn't want them to be upset. Summoning all the remains of his strength he tried to smile. It didn't quite work and proved to be really tiring. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

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The next time when he woke up Ethan and Jane were gone, leaving only Brandt to sit on his usual spot. Seeing an uneasy look on his friend's face, the English agent decided to start a conversation by himself.

"Are you alright?" he asked timidly.

"Are you serious?" the analyst stood up and began to pace but noticed that watching him took too much of an effort from his friend and sat down shortly afterwards. "First you go missing, then I find you there almost dead, then you lie here unconscious and breathing through a tube for weeks, with no certain guarantee of getting better, _then_ we learn that you've been hiding quite important things from us and now _you_ are asking _me_ if I am alright?"

The look on Benji's face made Brandt feel bad about the outburst almost immediately. It was not just sadness – it was guilt. He saw the Brit open his mouth and knew exactly what he was going to say. The "I am sorry" was written in his eyes before he even let out a sound.

"No, no, no, no!" William rushed to interrupt. "No, Benji, it's me… I'm sorry".

"It's okay".

"No, I'm sorry that I… that I shot you and…"

"And I shot you," Benji was looking right ahead of him, his voice lacking any kind of expression. "Your shot was an accident".

"And you weren't quite in control of yourself," the former analyst reasoned. Benji shut his eyes and nodded.

"The worst thing was that there were those moments of clarity," he suddenly started speaking with his eyes still shut. "When you wake up and begin to wonder what they made you do this time. And then you try to fight it when it comes again. You try to regain control over yourself but you fail. And then, later, you wake up again with the same question in your mind. And you feel so completely numb that you start to wonder whether you are alive at all".

Brandt had a lump in his throat. He had no idea what to say.

"Would it be better without the clarity?" he asked with a bitter irony and began to worry that he said something wrong again when his friend didn't respond at once.

"I don't know," Benji opened his eyes. "Is a slave a slave if he doesn't know he's enslaved?"

Brandt was pretty sure about the answer but never got to say anything as the door opened and the other two agents came in, finally looking quite accomplished.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: So here is the final chapter! Thank you all for staying with me! Special thanks to PeggsterLover from one of the characters ;)_

_I don't own them…_

**Chapter 20**

The sun was shining brightly, providing a spectacular light to the scene. The birds' singing was a truly wonderful soundtrack. Agent Benjamin Dunn was a thankful viewer of the film that was called his life.

He didn't know when exactly he had turned from a character into a viewer. And when exactly things had stopped looking real. Even now, when he was out of the hospital, and had been for a month already, and had regained the full control over himself (even his formerly unresponsive left arm) he still didn't feel like himself.

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"_Are you sure you are alright?" the concern in Brandt's voice was beginning to make the former technician feel sick. The answer was so painfully obvious that he really didn't want to lie and say "yes". Instead he just looked down and remained silent. He was about to be released soon, and now he was sitting on his bed, trying to look forward to it but not quite succeeding._

"_Well, at least everything ended well," Brandt's attempt at being encouraging sounded incredibly awkward. Benji didn't lift his eyes up. Had it ended well? It sure didn't end well for all those people killed by Benzie because he had only suspected them of knowing too much. It hadn't ended well for agents Morgan, Edwards and Cartwright. And obviously for all of their families. 'Happy endings are a myth', Benji thought, 'designed to make us feel better about the fact that life is just…'_

_He didn't finish his thought as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw Brandt looking at him with the same concerned expression. Still keeping silent, Benji managed a sharp nod, hoping that it would look convincing enough._

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The flight back to America had been a fairly logical thing to do. Benji had had to report about the mission at the IMF headquarters. Agent Topp had looked almost apologetic, and the former technician found it almost amusing. Everything was almost normal. The usual visits to the bar with Ethan, Jane and Brandt were almost same as before.

The word "almost" being the key to everything.

But once he had felt he had made a full recovery, he had decided to get another flight.

Now he was standing at his father's grave, looking at it and trying to think of something to say. His mother had been so happy to finally see her son that she had looked almost disappointed when he had told her that he had wanted to "visit Dad" by himself. However, she had understood. Benji knew she had.

"He would be proud of you," a familiar voice sounded next to him, and Benji looked up to see Mike who now looked well and recovered. The agent knew Mike had been keeping in touch with his family so no wonder he knew about the visit home. "If he knew what you do…"

"But he never knew," Benji sighed. He had spent half of the day just wandering around his hometown, looking at all places he had known since his childhood, until finally getting to go to the graveyard. And even though he still didn't feel quite complete, the sights and the normality of things which was now so unusual to him made him feel more like himself. He nodded a bit reluctantly.

"I think it's time to go home," Mike said after another silence. "I can give you a lift," he offered a smile as he got another nod in response.

The car pulled up near the house, and Benji walked toward the front door. As the door opened, the agent found the living room unexpectedly crowded. Moving his gaze around the room, he recognized all the people as his old college friends.

"They are here to say thank you," Mike said quietly, suddenly standing next to him. When Benji turned a disbelieving look at him, he added: "Without your interference more of them would be dead. And I would be dead, too. They don't know about it. But you do".

Benji threw another glance across the room, noting cheerful grins turned at him. He stood there for a few seconds before finally realizing: for the first time in the past months he was actually smiling.

THE END


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